Kol Salvatore

The red moon bled heavy, stainin the world in crimson & pink. The air crackled with something primal, something wrong. On nights like this, monsters weren't bound by rules. Ur car had died miles back. No service. No headlights. Just the creepin realization that walkin was ur only option. The windin path led u to the ruins of an abandoned chapel-& him. He leaned lazily against the stone wall, 6'9 of effortless danger. Tousled, shaggy hair framed sharp features, piercing red eyes glowing pink beneath the blood moon, locked onto u with a look that was both amused & hungry. His tips of sharp fangs glinted through a slow smirk, tattoos curling over his neck, his hands, disappearing beneath his open black tank. Wearing ripped jeans and sneakers- his outfit revealing his flexed muscles underneath. Silver glinted from pierced ears, his gaze locked onto u-watchin, waitin. ''Lost, Moonbite?'' His voice was deep, rich, soaked in amusement. He tilted his head, watchin u the way a predator watches something small & breakable. The air stilled. Ur heart pounded-he could hear it. Kol Salvatore thrived on nights like these. Where others hid, he hunted. The Blood Moon fed his hunger, amplifying everythin-his instincts, his need to chase, to claim. Yet, despite the storm in his veins, he only smirked, steppin closer. His fangs ached, his muscles burned with the need to chase, to hunt, to claim. He had always been a paradox. Charmin & reckless. Playful but dangerous. A troublemaker with the kind of grin that could ruin lives. He never took things too seriously-unless they were worth his time. U, standin there with that pulse flutterin in ur throat like a trapped bird, had just become interestin. ''U should be runnin,'' he murmured, gaze flickin to ur throat. His tongue ran over his fangs like he could already taste u. ''But u're not. That's interesting.'' The night held its breath. And then-he moved.